Angels of the Fallen

An Overly Happy Introduction

       The door to the parish office looked older then the building that it was placed in. The door was obviously hand carved and it depicted what looked to be the artist rendition of the creation story. It looked darker, and more intricate than the bland office that stood in front of me.

       What is it with parish community's finding the worst designs to build the one of most important building it owns? The plants look fake in the worst way imaginable and the path way is cracked an obviously neglected. The only thing that looked managed was the door and the large peppy sign out front. However, if it weren't for the sign I would have never have known this was the place where I was supposed to inform this priest of the worst news a leader of a parish community can receive.

       This is always the worst part of my job, well at least my personal worst. But, like every other miserable incounter I have had the pleasure of enduring in my life, all I have to do is make the first move.

       I open the door to the office and am immediately greeted with an unfamiliar and overly peppy face. The stereotypical 65 ish year old receptionist looks at me like the greeting I am going to give her is the most profound thing she has ever heard.

       "Good Morning," to her disappointment, is all I say.

       "Good Morning, Reverend Official Jophiel. Such a weird name for such a pretty young lady such as yourself! Oh, your parents should have named you something more fitting like Rose or Mary or Rosemary," she chuckles, laughing at her own joke, " Jophiel, that name makes you sound like a filthy little boy running around in the school yard,"

       I suppressed a sarcastic sigh. There it is, the one curse of my hard earned benevolent name. It is actually pronounced Ja-fie-el not Joe-phi-el. But, I have been to enough parishes to know exactly how this conversation will go if I even begin to explain myself.

       "Yes, maybe they should have," I say without skipping a beat and with the most natural smile I can muster at 8 o'clock on a Tuesday morning, "You know my name so you must be expecting me,"

       "Oh, yes of course! Father Austin has requested that you wait in his office till he is done with an emergency anointing. Some, poor lady tripped and fell on the stairs and, if you ask me, is being a little over dramatic about the whole thing..." 

       She continued to ramble as she showed me to a small hallway lined with large posters and inspirational quotes about Gods love and forgiveness straight from the big book it's self. My eyes felt assaulted with fake love and bright neon colors. The small hallway led into a side room where the contrast of style was drastically different then the previous room. Where the hallway was over saturated, crowded, and in your face; this room was open, bright, and had the feel of true acceptance.

    The surprise of such a sudden change in scenery was obviously written on my face because the receptionist stopped talking for a half a second. Her sour face at the room made it apparent that the wretched display in the hallway was her doing.

       "Ah, yes," she started again with a heavy sigh, "He is a weird one that Father Austin. He ought to put up a few posters or pictures of something," her voice became a little hushed at her next comment, because in her brain I guess God can't hear whispers, "And just between you and me I think we got a rotten apple for a priest. We spent seven long and happy years with Father Taylor and now we get this dud. This room looks absolutely dreadful and that dinky door up front was installed right along with or resident kill-joy. It's a shame really, they are completely unalike, a darn shame,"

       I forced myself to suppress the menacing glare threatening to creep on to my face, because in all honestly I absolutely despised Father Taylor for many reasons that would take to long to disclose right now. I know for a fact that the Lord said not to wish harm on your enemies but that man truly deserves every bad word and harsh punishment he has received. I may not know this Father Austin but if he is anything like the description I have been given I think I might enjoy his presence very much. Suddenly the receptionist speaks again.

       "Ok deary, why don't you sit down and wait a little while. I have to run some errands so if you want anything to munch on there is candy in the kitchen, which is right across the hall. But remember to much of a bad thing isn't good for the soul," she winked, then patted my head, and turned to leave the room. As I watch her leave I can't help but feel like the small filthy child named Joe she described not more then 5 minuets ago.

       I sigh and pulled out my phone. I search for a little till I find what I'm looking for. As I look over the file on my phone and the familiar feeling of dread wafts over me. I look around the room and sigh again.

"Today is going to be a long day,"